We crossed the street just as the rain began falling. The girls’ bags were nearly full so I figured if we had to cut it short, they wouldn’t feel too disappointed. Sophia wore a long blond wig, and her Elsa dress was warm and sequined to the collar, so I had no worries for her. Kate on the other hand insisted upon wonder woman in her island finery, faux leather halter and miniskirt to match. The wig helped shield her head from the coming storm, but her arms and legs bare but for the requisite bullet proof wrist bands and hooker boots I tried in vain to veto. She was better dressed for a day at the beach in Helena Greece before the fall of the empire.

The rain spit sideways forcing us to blink our way across the street. Once upon the opposite sidewalk, Sophia shot invisible ice at her little sister and Kate defended herself expertly, wrists crossed in front of her eyes. They both struck their character appropriate stances, wheeling about in imaginary strikes at their sibling. I wished I had my camera, but it probably would have failed miserably with the onslaught of drizzle falling from the clouds.

We stopped at a couple of more houses before they started to complain about the weather. I took my cue, and we huddled under a tree and stowed the candy in my backpack, replacing their hoodies which they gladly donned over their costumes.

“Hoods up, hold hands, and let’s get home.”

We rounded the corner when I first noticed him. An odd old man, alone on this night, walking in the rain. His back was humped, and he was clutching the upturned collar of his raincoat tightly around his neck. Large raindrops fell from the spines of his umbrella, rivers meandered the bony outcroppings of his thin protruding frame. He stood just feet away staring down, as if watching the water pool on the street. His dark pants fell like shrouds about his ankles and draped his shoes like ill-fitting tarps, his heels having worn the hems to shreds.

I don’t think the girls noticed him, too busy stomping puddles, knocking themselves sideways like bumper cars. I edged my way closer to them, an arms breadth behind them. A gust of wind pushed then rain at our faces, I blinked, lowered my forehead to shield my eyes and reached out for the girls. They screamed in unison and turned their faces against my chest as the wind whipped harder. We huddled for seconds until the whirling died and the rain resumed its vertical descent.

I looked up into his eyes as he spoke. Frozen, terrified I clutched the girls and pressed their faces hard against me. He twisted his head over his shoulder and gazed directly at me. A scarf was pulled loosely around his mouth, his harsh throaty tones carried on smoky mist through the gray wool. His hands were pewter green and gnarled, his right wrapped around the hooked handle of his umbrella, his left gesturing as if he was pointing back where he had been staring.

“Would you join us under my brolly?”

His face was skinless, his nose a gaping black hole, and his eyes flattened gray orbs protruding from the sockets of his ivory skull. He just stood there, head askance and his eyes fixed on mine. He wiggled his left index finger, gesturing to get my girls’ attention. My eyes darted from his face to his outstretched hand to my girls and back to his eyes. He tilted his head in a menacing inquisition, offering us to join him out of the rain.

I shoved the girls past him as he twisted in our wake. He stared after us but said nothing else. An immense chill enveloped me, and I pushed the girls as fast as they could go. I’ve never been so afraid in my life. Heart pounding, sweat rolling down my spine, my breath labored, we were nearly sprinting, but my legs felt mired in mud.

“Daddy, why are you pushing us? What’s wrong? I can’t go that fast.”

Sophia and Kate nearly fell under my awkward strides before we were across the street. We stopped and I glanced over my shoulder. He was gone. Seconds before he was standing still at the corner, his frightening gaze fixated on me and my children. And now we three stood alone in the rain two blocks from home.

Kate turned to me and smiled, “did you see his butterfly, Daddy?”

“What?” I was startled.

“The man on the corner. His butterfly, did you see it?”

I knelt in front of her and smoother her shoulders.

“I did baby. It was blue, wasn’t it?” I asked.

“Yes,’ she said. ‘It was so pretty.”

“Did you see anything else, baby girl? Sophia, did you see anything else?”

Sophia turned to me, rubbing her eyes gently with her hoodie sleeve.

“I didn’t see anything Daddy, the water was in my eyes.”

I wrapped my arms around both girls, squeezed them tightly and said, “come on, let's get home. I bet mom has hot chocolate.”